End Of Legion
by Snowwolfe45
Summary: Julia Craft watched as Caesar's Legion brutally murdered everyone in her small village, her brother included. Having her only family taken from her in such violent fashion caused a deep seeded hatred for the Legion. She vowed that the Legion would fall to her, no matter what the cost. Along the way, she takes part in a massive power shift in the Mohave, involving Courier 6 himself.
1. Beginning of Legion

**Two** **years before the courier's appearance in the Mohave Wasteland.**

"You are being punished because you all are filthy, disgusting excuses for humans. Some of you aren't even worth being killed," A man dressed in a set of red armor resembling that of an ancient Roman soldier paced in front of a brahmin pen packed full of shaking and shitting Wastelanders. All looked at the soldiers surrounding the pen, all dressed similar to the speaker, with horror filled faces, as if they were demons. "Those shall be enslaved, and put to work for the great Caesar. The others shall be killed in different ways of varying pain," he swept his cold gaze across his chattel.

"One lucky member of this pathetic society shall be set free to spread the word of the dread that is to come. Another will also be allowed to live, but under special circumstances," a sadistic grin spread across the speakers face. "This shall all be decided by... a lottery! Yes! You all shall get to participate in the most exhilarating form of gambling to come about in your worthless lives," the speaker spat, his grin from ear to ear now. The Wasters all clutched the tickets they had been handed when they were rounded up.

"Now, I shall call the number of the lucky winner! Soldier! My ticket hat!" the speaker barked at one of the strangely dressed soldiers. The hat holder rushed to the side of the speaker, who began rummaging through the hat for the winning ticket. All the time this was happening, every soul trapped in the pen was wishing they were the ones who got their ticket chosen, regardless of the well being of their loved ones. Well, all but one.

Very near the center of the pen, a boy no older than twenty knelled on the ground clutching a young girl no older than fourteen. The girl's face was covered in dirt, but was interrupted by the trails her tears had left running down her gaunt cheeks. He unwashed blonde hair covered her what was surely once bright green eyes. Those eyes were dull and lifeless, instead. The boy, tall and toned, surprising for a poor Waster, had his shoulder length, light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was whispering in the girls ear, telling his young sister how everything was going to be alright. But one thought was constantly running through his mind: _Let her win. Please, God, let her win._

"Ah, this seems like a good ticket. Nice and random," the speaker announced after a full minute of searching for an appropriate ticket. "Alright, who is number... forty-three?" The boy's blood turned to ice. He couldn't breathe. He knew his number was near that, but he dare not look. "Who is it?" the speaker called again. The boy started to tremble.

"J-Julia... what's you n-number?" The boy choked out, almost inaudible. Julia stiffened.

"...Forty... forty-two..." she whispered. The boy felt as if his lungs had been ripped from his body. He couldn't even draw breath. His left hand began to shake violently. The hand that held his ticket.

"I will ask only once more, before I draw again!" the speaker yelled. The boy slowly opened his hand. The number on his ticket... read forty-three. He clutched his sister tighter. Julia looked over at her brothers open hand, letting out a gasp. The boy was on the verge of hysterics, but managed to pull himself together.

"Julia," his began. "Take my ticket," Julia gasped again, tearing herself away from his embrace.

"_WHAT_?" she shrieked. This piqued the interest of the speaker.

"Do we have a taker, finally?" the speaker called out.

"Take my ticket, Julia!" the boy ordered, rising to his full six foot, three inch height.

"I wont do it, Wesley!" she yelled back at him.

"What is going on? Soldiers! Retrieve those two!" the speaker ordered. Four soldiers pushed through the crowd of Wasters to reach the siblings. They pulled them out, Julia kicking and screaming, Wesley throwing punches. They were deposited before the speaker.

"What do we have here, hmm?" he asked. Wesley got to his knees.

"My sister won the lottery," Wesley said. Julia tried to protest but was cut off by the speaker.

"If that's the case, then let me check your ticket," he held his hand in front of her tear soaked face. She hesitated for a moment before giving him her ticket. The speaker smoothed out the small piece of paper to read it. "It seems you are a lair, young sir. Her ticket reads forty-two. I clearly said forty-three. Hand me your ticket," Wesley stood still, stone faced and not budging an inch. He held his ticket with a death grip. The speaker looked at the soldier behind Wesley, giving him a slight nod.

The next thing that Wesley knew was that he was lying on the ground, and was bleeding from the back of his head. Julia gave out a cry. The speaker bent down and ripped the ticket from Wesley's now unclenched hand. He smoothed it out as well. "Ah just as I suspected. Soldiers! Drag him to the edge of this dump, and drag her back to the pen," he ordered, pointing to Julia.

"No..." Wesley gargled. He spit blood out on the ground. Two soldiers began to drag him away. "No," He repeated louder. He tried to gain a footing, but his head felt like it was splitting in two. The soldiers had dragged him only a short distance when his anger exploded.

"NO!" He yelled, finally getting on his feet. He mustered all his strength and yanked the two soldiers into each other, knocking them to the ground. They lost their grip on him as a result, and he sprinted back towards the speaker. Expecting an attack, the speaker pulled out a machete and raised it in a defensive position. To his complete and utmost surprise, Wesley flung himself to the ground in front of him, his face buried in the dirt. The speaker was, needless to say, shocked.

"Please!" Wesley yelled. "Please let my sister go! Do whatever you want to me, just let my sister live!" he begged. The speaker lowered his machete. He motioned for the soldiers to back off. The ones in custody of Julia stopped as well. He gave Wesley an icy stare, and lowered himself to one knee in front of him.

"Are you seriously shamelessly begging me to kill you?" he asked slowly.

"Yes!"

"Brother, no! It's okay!" Julia yelled.

"Shut up, Julia!" he responded. The speaker began to laugh in response.

"You really want to die that bad? You do know she will die anyway, right? This world will eat up a girl like her," the speaker said.

"She's stronger than you think," Wesley spat out. The speaker laughed again.

"Oh, very well. She can go. Just know, I will make your death as painful as possible," he said, raising back to both feet. "Prepare the crosses!" he ordered his soldiers, while motioning for Julia to be released. She immediately rushed to her brother's side, who had risen to his knees, so he could speak with his sister. Julia was almost sobbing.

"Why, Wes? Why? You'll have a better chance than me to survive. Why did you do that?" she demanded, angrily, punching his chest.

"Because... I promised Mom and Dad that I would do everything in my power to protect you. This is the extent of my power. Now listen Julia," Wesley began, grasping his sister's shoulders. "Go to that place. You know the one I'm talking about, right?" he asked. Julia nodded. "Good. Go there, and grab the backpack I hid. It has a a pistol and a hunting rifle with fifty bullets for each, as well as canned food and bottled water. It also has a simple medical kit with Med-X and a couple Stim-paks. Once you grab it, head west until you hit the Colorado river. There will be a boat hidden in a small cave a few miles up river from the dam. Its right in the cliff side next to the bank, so you'll have to get down into the canyon somewhere. Are you getting this, Julia?" She nodded again.

"Good. Now after you find the boat, cross the river and get out of the canyon. Once you're out of the canyon, stick to the roads and head south to New Vegas. If you run into any traveling merchants or caravans, travel with them. They're good people. When you get to New Vegas, go to the Strip. The security bots will ask for a passport to let you in. I bought you one last time I was there and is in the backpack. When you get to the Strip, go to Vault 21. It's a hotel of sorts. Just tell them that you're my sister. They'll take care of you. The owners owe me a big favor," as if on cue, two soldiers came to drag Wesley away. Julia was grabbing at him trying to make them stop, but she was thrown back

"Julia! Just go! Run! And stay safe!" Wesley yelled at his sister.

"No, brother! I-"

"GO!" he screamed. Julia was sobbing too hard to argue anymore. She turned and ran. She didn't stop running until she was on a small hill overlooking the small village she had lived her whole life in. She tuned around just in time to see her brother being nailed to a cross. She let out a wail. Her whole life was being destroyed right in front of her. Her brother had been everything to her since their parents died, and now... now she got to watch as her brother was stolen from her as well. Finally, she turned her eyes from the broken figure of her brother. She didn't turn around again.

IIIIIIIIII

The roar of a motorcycle filled the air. He had only heard that sound three times before. It was from a motorcycle he rebuilt and sold in New Vegas. He was dreaming. He had to be. Such a sound was only heard once in a lifetime. He was about to drift back into a deep sleep, and then... pain. A deep, intense pain covering his entire body. He let out a scream of agony. He then heard the screech of brakes, another rare sound in the Wasteland. And then, voices.

"This one is still alive!" a woman's voice rang out.

"I can tell. Quick, give him some Med-X and a Stim-Pak. We might be able to save him if we act quick enough," a man's voice sounded. The injured man cracked his eyes some, only to be blinded by a light apparently coming from the motorcycle he was hearing. The only thing he could make out in the light was the silhouette's of a huge man in what looked like power armor and a woman. He quickly felt a needle enter his side. The pain relief was immediate. Another needle was stuck in his leg and more pain washed away with an icy sensation.

"Alright, kid, I'm going to pull the spikes out of your feet and hands. Bite on this," he shoved a piece of cloth in the injured man's mouth. The man obeyed in his now drug numbed mind. "Are you ready?" The big man asked. The other nodded slowly. "Alright..." The big man yanked out the spike in his left foot. The injured man's eyes flew open and he bit down hard on the cloth, screaming in pain once more.

"Alright, here comes the next one.." The man yanked out the next spike. The injured man began to froth at the edges of his mouth.

"Careful! You'll send him into shock!" the woman yelled.

"Then give him another Stim-Pak!" he yelled. The injured man felt another need go into his leg, and the pain subsided some. The big man then wrapped on arm around his waste, and pulled out the remaining two spikes in his hands within seconds of each other. The now, de-crucified man almost passed out from the pain. The giant of a man gently laid him on the ground, while the woman stuck two more needles into his side, which caused him to promptly slip into a deep, drug induced sleep.


	2. Pain Of Legion

**Hey! I didn't put an author's note on the first chapter so you could jump right on in! Most chapters from now on will have them, though, so I can give you updates and news! A special thanks to Prinzessin Mia and Krazy Rabb1t for following 'End of Legion'! Now, on to what you came for! Enjoy!**

Julia ran as fast as her pack would allow her, a 9mm pistol in her right hand. She pointed the pistol behind her and let off a couple of shots. One hit home. The scream of a feral ghoul rang out across the canyon. Julia picked up her speed with a boost of adrenaline. She was in the river canyon, on the east bank. She had did exactly as her brother said and went until she hit the river , got down in the canyon and had followed it north for a few miles. Things went awry when she went into a cave that she thought that was the one her brother told her to go to.

She was wrong. It was filled with at least ten feral ghouls. Ten _hungry _feralghouls. They all noticed her presence and decided she looked like she tasted quite good. She somehow kept herself from panicking, and was able to kill five off quickly with her pistol. She tried to reload, but her hands were shaking something terrible and she dropped the mag. She only had time to retrieve the mag and start running. In the five or so minutes she had been running, she managed to kill two more and injure at least one more.

Then, she saw it. The cave her brother had been talking about. The boat was right there!The cave itself was little more than an overhang of rock, but it was enough to hide the boat from people looking down into the canyon. She figured she could dive behind the boat for cover, which would buy her enough time to kill the remaining ghouls.

That was the plan of action, until she tripped over a rather large stone. She let out a yelp, and hit the ground. Hard. Her fall knocked the breath from her small frame. She tried to get up, but only managed to get on her side, her pack keeping her from flipping over completely, before the ghouls were on top of her. She let out a scream of terror.

She managed to keep the one directly on top of her from biting her by holding her left arm against it's neck. She felt it's saliva hit her in the face, it's rotten breath causing her to be extremely nauseous. She managed to shove her gun into it's mouth. She let off a couple of rounds. She got lucky, really lucky, because it died almost instantly, as well as another of the three that was right on top of the first.

The last one was apparently starving, because he threw the dead ghoul on the top of the pile off into the river. Julia was able to shoot it in the shoulder, once, but her pistol jammed. That made it angry, because it let out a scream of rage. She started to panic. The live ghoul threw the other dead ghoul off of her, allowing her a moment to crawl backwards a couple of feet. The ghoul wasted no time in attacking her again, and jumped right on top of her, sitting on her waist this time.

It grabbed at her face, but she smacked it's hands away with her gun, though it left a deep scratch on her neck. That pissed it off even more, causing it to try and bite her instead. She smacked it in the head when it was only inches away from her face.

And then she hit it again, and again, and again. It had fallen off of her now. She hit it again. And again. And again. She let out a scream of rage. She didn't stop hitting it. She hit and hit and hit until its head was nothing but a pile of blood and flesh and bone. She couldn't move her arm anymore. The bloody pistol slipped from her hand and hit the ground.

She was sitting on the ghoul's chest, but didn't remember when she had gotten on top of it. She slapped a hand over the wound on her neck, which was bleeding a good bit, now. She would have to bandage it quickly, just as her brother taught her. She shakily got back on her feet and began to walk the last stretch of land to the boat, her now broken gun forgotten.

IIIIIIIIII

Pain. Pain great enough to completely stop all movement. That was the only feeling coursing through his body. He lay still for what must have been hours, dipping in and out of sleep, his mind foggy and his thoughts muddied. He dare not move, so as to not cause any more pain. Then, he heard movement. He opened his eyes and shifted his head toward the sound of the movement ever so slightly, sending beams of pain down his neck.

"Ah, you're awake, Wesley," an elderly man's voice rang out. Wesley was startled by the sound. He shifted his head a little more, so that the old man was in his view. The old man was seated in a chair not a foot from him, but his legs looked deformed and twisted. Wesley tried to talk, but was cut off by the old man. "Don't try to talk yet, Wes. You need to conserve all of your energy that you can. You were on the brink of death when a huge guy in power armor and woman pulled you off of that cross the Legion had you nailed to. That was a week and a half ago."

Wesley's thought's shifted to the events that caused him to be in this state. He felt hatred for the soldiers of the Legion that did this to him. He knew something else was supposed to be bothering him greatly, but he couldn't think of it. Then it hit him like a charging Brahmin. Wesley began to panic, trying to move his beaten body into a seated position.

"Whoa, there boy. I know what's got you in a fit. The two that saved you agreed to go after your sister," Wes relaxed some at his statement, and lowered himself as gently as he could onto his makeshift bed. He lay there for a few minutes, before turning his gaze back to the old man, who had been silent until then. Wesley's eyes rested on the old man's legs. Just as he thought before, they looked as if they had been smashed by something. The old man noticed what he was looking at. He let out a strained chuckle.

"Oh, these old things? Well, I came up second in the lottery, so I got to live as well. But, they smashed my legs with a sledgehammer a few times. Then stuck a hot brand to 'em, for good measure. Not something a good ol' dose of Med-X wont solve. Eh, these legs weren't good for much in the first place, so it's not the end of the world..." the old man said quietly.

He let out a long sigh afterward. "Anywho, you look thirsty, son," the old man leaned over and grabbed a bottle of water on the side opposite of Wesley, albeit with some degree of difficulty. He shifted himself back to an upright position before depositing the water next to Wesley. "Here you go."

"T-thanks," Wesley croaked out, his throat now noticeably as parched as the Wasteland itself. He gently raised himself into a seated position. It caused him a great deal of discomfort to be in this position. Noticing this, the old man leaned over again to grab a bottle of pain killers. Wesley grabbed the bottle of water, and attempted to open it, but just grabbing a hold of the bottle sent waves of pain from his hand, causing him to drop the bottle. He raised his hand in front of him to see why it hurt so horribly. It was wrapped in bandages, with a large blotch of blood in the center. _Oh yeah. I was nailed to a cross_.

Wes' train of thought was interrupted by another bottle landing in his lap. He looked down at the bottle, which was a pill bottle. "Pain killers," the old man said. Wes turned his head to look at him. "Damn strong ones, too. They'll knock you out inside of a minute. You need to rest anyway, son," This time, Wes merely grunted his approval. He picked up the water bottle a bit more gently this time around. He set it in his lap and picked up the pills, wrestling open the lid.

Once the bottle was open, he dumped a couple into his bandaged hand. He set the pill bottle aside and grabbed the water. He opened it, then placed the pills in his mouth. He tilted his head back and downed the whole bottle of water, along with the pills. Within twenty seconds, he felt the effects of the pain killers, and laid back rather hard. He felt no pain, though. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

IIIIIIIIII

The man and woman with the motorcycle drove along the east bank of the massive Colorado river, looking for Wesley's sister.

"I don't see her," the man said.

"Neither do I," the woman responded.

"Her tracks led down this bank, but the river washed them away."

"Well, she wouldn't have gone towards the dam. Legion that way and that NCR your friend told us about."

"He's your friend, too."

"Shut up, smartass," the mysterious couple continued to cruise along the bank, the sun sinking towards the horizon. They passed a dark cave. The woman, whose arms were wrapped around the man-giant, laid her head on his back, the metal of the power armor still warm from the sun. She allowed herself a small smile.

"There," the man spoke suddenly. "Dead ghouls. She's been through here," the woman raised her head to look over his shoulder. She saw at least four bodies. "Look for her body. She might not have survived," The woman began to scan the area for a young girl's body, but didn't see any signs of her. They passed a small overhang of rock. Not seeing anything, the woman turned her gazer to the other bank, only to see...

"A boat!" The man hit the brakes on the bike.

"Where?"

"Dragged onto the other bank!" They both began to scan the other bank. The man saw a rough path leading up to the top of the canyon.

"There," he said pointing to the top of the bank. A small figure was retreating out of their field of vision. "That has to be her. There's no way we can get to the other side without a boat," he said. He wieghed his options for a moment. "Let's just go back to the village and let the kid know she's made it to the other side. Let him deal with it while we find another way across the river," The engine of the motorcycle roared as the man spun it around and sped along the east bank of the Colorado River.

IIIIIIIIII

"Cass, look out towards the river!"

"What is it, Jim?" the one identified as Cass turned to look towards the river. She didn't see anything at first.

"It's a person!" Jim replied, pointing to what Cass thought was a rock, but was actually a body crumpled up on the ground.

"So? Leave it for the crows," Cass said, turning back to continue down her route.

"No, Cass! I just saw them walking, and they hit the ground!" said Jim. "It looked like a young girl!"

**So? How was it? There's a little button down below for giving feedback... You can press it if you want! it's only human nature to want to press buttons! No need to be ashamed... Anywho, thanks for reading. Will have a new chapter up soon! Despite my previously poor track record of updates, I promise to update often! I really feel good about this one! Snow out.**


End file.
